Chapter 10.1 : Chaos Element

  Adam’s POV

  Once Dona finally calmed down and released me from her bosom prison (tragically, I might add), the leader gave up trying to convince her to be cautious around me. With a resigned sigh, he decided to let me join their group temporarily.

  The unconscious guy was left in the care of the caped dude, who had taken up the noble art of poking him with a stick, apparently convinced that this was the key to waking him up.

  The campsite itself was simple—a campfire crackled in the center, and a few tents were set up to the side. The rising sun cast a warm glow, making the fire less necessary, but it added to the atmosphere. The leader squatted near the fire, carefully cooking a chicken leg skewered on a stick. Dona sat beside me, while the twins were still busy scavenging—or, as it appeared now, researching the skeletal horse carcass like scientists on a discovery mission.

  As for me, I took a deep breath. Everyone, except Dona, seemed both curious and wary about me, so I decided to share a bit of my story. Naturally, I kept it vague—no need to spill all the beans just yet.

  “I’m Adam,” I said, introducing myself with a name that wasn’t Alper just in case. Best to keep my true identity under wraps. “I fell into that cave after someone tried to kill me.”

  Some gasps rippled through the group, except for the caped guy, who didn’t even flinch. He just kept poking the unconscious dude.

  “And… I have amnesia,” I added, it was convenient, and it explained any gaps in my story without inviting too many questions.

  I omitted any mention of Nove, deciding that keeping her a secret was the safest bet. Instead, I told them a dramatic tale of survival: a cracked skull, near-starvation, battling giant worms, and crawling through the cave with almost no hope.

  By the time I got to the part about killing the worm, the leader’s cooking was done. He handed me a perfectly roasted chicken leg, the golden skin glistening in the morning light.

  I stared at it for a moment, the rich aroma hitting me like a freight train. My mouth watered instantly, and I felt a pang of longing.

  Oh, sweet, heavenly poultry.

  “Dig in,” the leader said with a nod, and I didn’t need to be told twice.

  I bit into the roasted chicken leg, and it was like my taste buds threw a party in my mouth. Juices burst forth, coating my tongue with a savory richness that made the memory of worms and bats feel like a distant nightmare. Each bite was a celebration, a sensation so satisfying that I couldn’t help but close my eyes and savor it.

  As I devoured the food, a strange feeling began to wash over me. At first, it was simple relief—a sense of freedom, like I was shedding the weight of the cave, the danger, and the dirt-covered shoes. But then it hit me, like a wave I hadn’t been ready for.

  After what felt like days of survival, pain, and desperation in this strange world… I finally felt something more profound. Liberation.

  I glanced around the campfire. To my left, Dona sat beside me, her kind smile softening the tension in the air as she gently caressed my head. Across from me, the muscular leader leaned forward slightly, his chin resting on his hand, watching me with an unexpected air of patience. The twins, engrossed in their work, had their backs turned, while the caped guy lingered in the background, observing us from afar like a shadowy overseer.

  The scene was ordinary, yet for me, it felt extraordinary.

  I was pumped. This is it, I thought. A fresh start. A magical, game-like world where I could finally live free of the life I’d left behind. But as the excitement bubbled inside me, something else surfaced, unbidden.

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  What is this feeling?

  “Huh?” I muttered, my voice shaky as I blinked. My vision blurred, and I couldn’t understand why.

  Am I… crying?

  I stared down at the half-eaten chicken leg, watching as silent tears fell onto the golden-brown surface. It wasn’t just joy or relief—it was the overwhelming realization that this world, for all its dangers, gave me something my old life hadn’t: a sense of freedom.

  It wasn’t the fantasy, the magic, or the adventure that moved me or made me excited to be in this world. It was the liberation, the feeling I had when I used to play around and not stuck in “wet work.”

  The feeling of being… normal.

  “Adam?” Dona’s voice broke through, soft and concerned.

  I tried to answer, to tell her it was nothing, but the words caught in my throat. The tears wouldn’t stop, no matter how much I wanted them to.

  The leader seemed to catch on, his skeptical expression softening as he leaned back. “Dona, it seems like he’s just a kid after all,” he said gently.

  Dona tilted her head, confused, until she saw the tears streaming down my face.

  Before I knew it, she pulled me into another hug, warm and enveloping. “Hush, my child,” she murmured, her voice like a lullaby. “You’re safe with us. No more suffering as long as I’m here.”

  I don’t know what kind of magic Dona’s words held, but the floodgates opened, and there was no stopping it.

  I cried.

  I cried like a kid who’d just scraped his knee on the playground, but instead of physical pain, it was years of pent-up emotion pouring out. I was finally free.

  No more being the bad guy. No more dirty work. No more shackles.

  The words echoed in my mind, each repetition loosening chains I hadn’t even realized were still binding me.

  I didn’t know how long I clung to Dona. A minute? Five? Ten? Time blurred into the warmth of her embrace, and I didn’t care to keep track.

  When the storm finally subsided and I cleaned up my tear-streaked face, something remarkable happened—I felt… lighter. Like some invisible weight had been lifted off my back. My body felt invigorated, almost as if the sheer act of crying had wrung out the heaviness in my soul.

  For the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe again. Like I could do anything.

  That’s when the embarrassment kicked in.

  Here I was, a man in his late 20s, crying into the arms of a woman I’d just met, behaving like a child who lost his favorite toy. I couldn’t even bring myself to look Dona in the eyes. Well, let’s be honest—it was hard enough to make eye contact with her to begin with, considering my new height and her… ample distractions.

  Still, I pulled myself together. After a few awkward sniffles, I picked up the chicken leg and resumed eating.

  Besides the crackling of the campfire, The camp was quiet. No one said anything, not even the twins, who had finished whatever strange scavenger ritual they’d been performing. Now, they sat beside me, watching me with a mix of curiosity and sympathy.

  The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, though. It was the kind of quiet that felt… supportive. Like everyone understood that, for now, words weren’t necessary.

  And for the first time in this strange new world, I realized—I wasn’t alone.

  Feeling fantastic and wanting to keep the conversation rolling, I launched into the story about creating Core nodes.

  But before I could finish my second sentence, the caped guy—apparently named Kastor—cut me off. “Please stop exaggerating. Just say you had some spare Core nodes in your inventory.”

  I blinked, confused by his accusation. As I looked around, I noticed the others were also staring at me—not at him, but me—their expressions a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

  Before I could open my mouth to respond, Kastor doubled down. “Making any kind of Core node is insanely difficult. It requires countless materials, precise calculations, and a lot of luck. You, a kid who can barely Metal Weave, wouldn’t have the faintest idea how alchemy works.”

  Wait… what? I thought. Is that how it works here?

  “Kastor. No need to berate a child,” the leader said sharply, his voice calm but firm.

  Kastor huffed in response, clearly not interested in backing down. “The child shouldn’t say stupid things.”

  The brewing tension between the two gave me the perfect excuse to lean back, subtly covering my mouth like I was wiping away crumbs. “Nove,” I whispered, barely audible, “explain.”

  Nove’s voice chimed in my head with her signature monotone precision. “For the average human, creating a Core node is indeed extremely difficult. It requires alchemy circles, advanced formulas, specialized machinery, and meticulous calculations just to achieve an 80% success rate. Without those, the success rate drops below 40%.”

  My eyes narrowed as the realization struck me: Nove had been crafting Core nodes like it was child’s play, yet here I was being treated like I’d claimed to invent sliced bread. Sensing my thoughts, Nove chimed in, her voice calm and unbothered.

  “Most humans are limited by distractions, lack of focus, or an inability to calculate complex formulas quickly enough. As a Sentient Core, I am not hindered by those limitations. That is why I maintain a near 100% success rate in all things alchemy.”

  Oh my god. It finally clicked. This is why Alper went all-in on alchemy and ditched everything else.

  While I mulled over this revelation, the leader and Kastor kept bickering, their voices a steady background hum. The twins and Dona were huddled together, chatting about their findings, seemingly unfazed by the escalating argument. Apparently, this was just another Tuesday for them.